


you'll never take me (alive)

by orphan_account



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Dark, Depression, Friendship, Hope, Ideation, Loneliness, Love, M/M, Sadness, Suicidal Thoughts, light - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-20
Updated: 2017-11-20
Packaged: 2019-02-04 18:28:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12776838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: patrick stays for those who love him <3Tw: self harm, implied suicide attempt, suicidal thoughts, self hatred





	you'll never take me (alive)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [whatledtothis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/whatledtothis/gifts), [notquitepunkrock](https://archiveofourown.org/users/notquitepunkrock/gifts), [scorpiusismypatronus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/scorpiusismypatronus/gifts), [spooky_ghoul](https://archiveofourown.org/users/spooky_ghoul/gifts), [accidentallybroken](https://archiveofourown.org/users/accidentallybroken/gifts), [fallingintoplace](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fallingintoplace/gifts).



> thank you all so much. 
> 
> thanks for staying with me, supporting me and making me smile so fucking much even when im in my darkest moments. i love you all and you've helped me so much. thank you from my lil black heart <3 <3 you make me feel like I'm something, like I'm important. I hope I help you too <3
> 
> (also happy birthday scorpius!! love you loads xoxo)

Patrick was always meant to be okay, god forbid he wasn't. He didn’t have Pete, he didn’t have Joe, he didn’t have Andy. They were at their school while Patrick was alone, contemplating relapse. But he can’t relapse, he promised his mother. But he had. He had. He’d relapsed, but the cuts had healed and he was far too grateful.

They’d been so **M E A N** to him today, though that wasn’t any different. He deserved all the stares. All the rumours. All the hatred and jealously and whispers behind his back.

_**You're a fucking creep! Waste of space! You're nothing!** _

The darkness would scream at him constantly. In exams when he panicked, in corridors when he avoided eye contact. He kept his head down, shoulders hunched, voice quiet and spoke carefully chosen words.

Even though these kids made him despise himself just a little bit more, he made sure always be nice to all of them. Because he didn't want them to crave death like he and so many did, he wanted them to stay even though they hurt him. Because somedays they were kind, when it was just them. They’d be missed and no light should go out.

* * *

His teachers had been so so very sweet to him today. Most of them always were, and that made him want to break down.

They didn't see what everyone else saw, a freak. He knew he was, so he carved the word into his palm, lies and empty promises falling from his tongue like the lukewarm tears from his blue eyes. It hurt, fuck did it hurt. But it's been 6 days and he hadn't turned to his old friend who made him cry in bathrooms, music failing to break apart the static. So that was good, right?

* * *

He had his guitar lesson tomorrow. That was one of the only things keeping him anchored and here and momentarily okay. His guitar teacher was so nice to him, encouraging him, telling him had potential, telling not to talk himself down like he always did. Patrick loved that simply running his calloused fingertips over the nylon strings calmed his frantic tornado of thoughts and pounding heartbeat.

But that was tomorrow. This was today. And he found himself wanting to disappear, to leave all over again. He always drowned after all. No matter how fucking hard he tried, he was always awake at ungodly hours, yanking his hair, pleading to no one but his brain to just SHUT UP.

* * *

He was ready to go, ready to leave. He always wanted to leave and that terrified him so so much.

But, then he remembered the way Pete held him tight as they sat together, music blasting through their shared headphones. He remembered inhaling Pete’s soothing scent before he went home and the already weakened pillars in Patrick mind collapsed and he fell into the abyss all over again.

He remembered Joe’s vibrant face as the two played guitar, back to back, side to side, whenever and wherever. He remembered his screams of “420!” for no reason as they watched a bad film from their childhood. He remembered Joe hugging him and keeping an eye on Patrick, even though he promised that he was okay.

He remembered Andy’s bright, happy voice that didn't fit his WHOLE AESTHETIC. He remembered the life that radiates from his strong, protective form. He remembered the way he smiled at Trick, whenever he smiled or laughed, Andy cared so much.

* * *

Patrick was scared he'd ruin their light with his heavy darkness and troubled thoughts, with the scars on his wrist, the scars they didn't know about. He didn't want them to know. Ever.

He was a tornado and they were the brave few who stayed and embraced the end or the beginning.

* * *

He knew they'd miss him, that they cared and for the moment, that was enough reason for him to stay even though he didn't want to.

And so he put his blades away, grabbed his headphones with shaking hands and waited for the sun to rise.

 


End file.
